


A Tattered Soul

by PleaseGiveMeAPenName



Category: Soul Eater
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-30 09:55:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11461179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PleaseGiveMeAPenName/pseuds/PleaseGiveMeAPenName
Summary: A year after what is now referred to as 'The Final Battle', the DWMA has been repaired, and everything is as it should be. However, a girl named Emilia Townsend stumbles upon a severely weakened Asura. She invites him into her home, thinking he is simply a homeless person. Once she finds out his true identity, however, she is determined to help him by healing his tattered soul.





	A Tattered Soul

The streets of Death City were quiet and cold at night. In most places, this would be when witches and pre-kishins came out of hiding. However, there were none in Death City, as it was filled with not only meisters and weapons, but Death himself, and not even the most powerful of witches was stupid enough to put themselves in his direct reach, especially after the defeat of the Kishin Asura. Most people were asleep, and most of the shops were closed. The only places still open were bars and clubs.  
Emilia Townsend, a fairly average girl walked through the streets in a clearly oversized black hoodie. Death City may be warm during the day, but it was in the middle of the Nevada desert, so it was quite chilly at night. Her skin was tan, and her dark brown curls barely escaped the front of her hood. Her every footstep echoed back to her off the brick walls of the buildings surrounding her. Her feet hurt with each impact on the cobblestone path. She had just gotten off work five minutes ago, and was walking home. They had been so busy during her shift that she never got a moment to just sit down and rest her feet. She was appreciative all the same of her job at Deathbucks, though, as she needed to money to pay for her utilities, food, and other miscellaneous things. She was just glad she didn't need to pay a mortgage. She lived in a small condominium complex, and the one she lived in was left to her by her father. She didn't really remember him all that well, as he had been kicked out of her mother’s house when she was four because he was a weapon. Her mother was a low-level witch who could only affect the mind. So basically, she could create illusions to get away from meisters and weapons who saw her. She also could help people get to sleep, or briefly alter emotions. None of her abilities were suited to combat, so she was an outcast among witches. But since she was a witch, she was an outcast among the rest of the world, as well. Her mother, thus trusted no one with any supernatural abilities, weapons and meisters least of all. So, she had kicked her father to the curb.  
She had been treated rather nicely, for awhile. Her mother taught her how to use her magic, which was connected to the soul. Emilia could alter soul wavelengths, making weapons stay in one form for awhile, or temporarily throwing off the compatibility of a meister-weapon pair. This was incredibly difficult, though, and took a lot of energy to perform, so it was useless in a fight. She COULD, however, adjust what soul wavelengths looked like to outsiders, though. It was like the common soul protect spell, however it only limited the strength of magical abilities instead of shutting them down altogether. There was also greater variation to it. It could be used on other people, for example. She could not only make a soul look human, but make it seem to disappear entirely. Granted, that typically wasn't much use, but hey, maybe an assassin would like it. Her mother had taught her to control these abilities, and encouraged her to test her limits with them. It was a good time in her life.  
It all ended too soon, though. At twelve, Emilia had accidentally partially transformed, and revealed that she had inherited her father’s weapon blood. Her mother changed after that. She was beaten every time she transformed. She was never given any food, and was forced to sleep in the basement, locked in every night with nothing but a small drain as a bathroom. It took her about three years to figure out how to sneak food and water for herself, so until fifteen, she subsisted off the often expired leftovers her mom threw her. She was surprised she hadn't gotten sick and died from the rancid food, honestly. It was at sixteen that she was summoned by city officials from Tallahassee to receive her father’s last will and testament. She had to sneak out to go to city hall, and sneak out again after she got her meager things packed for her journey to Death City. She had stolen change from her mother for a bus, and only wrote a note saying ‘bye, bitch’ to notify her of her daughter’s absence. She smirked. The last good memory she had from Florida.  
Too lost in her thoughts of the past, she didn't notice the cat stretched out on the path in front of her and she stepped on it's tail. It let out a loud yowl, and she jumped back in surprise, cursing as she fell onto her butt. She scowled and got up, rubbing her now-sore behind. She looked up and found that she had arrived at her home. She silently thanked the cat for startling her, as she otherwise would have walked straight past.  
She brushed the dust off her butt and took a step towards the steps. She stopped, however, when she saw a thin form scurry behind one of the dumpsters on the corner. She cautiously stepped forward, and soon saw that it was a person. They were very tall, but so thin they looked like a breeze would snap them in half. Looking closer, she saw that it was a man. He wore nothing but long, pale scarves wrapped around important areas. His face was fully covered, so she figured he was blind. She furrowed her brow at his lack of clothing. It was forty seven degrees! She took off her hoodie and tried to hand it to him. He flinched, and didn't move to take it. 

“Come on, you need this, or else you're gonna freeze out here,” she said.

He still made no move to take it. Emilia frowned and put it on the ground. She backed up and sat down on the ground cross-legged with her hands held up in plain sight. It took about a minute for him to inch forward. She almost gasped once he was in the light. He was absolutely emaciated. His abdomen caved in at his rib cage, and every rib there was plainly visible. She could see both bones in his lower arms, as well as his legs. It reminded her of herself before she came to Death City. She barely avoided gasping again when the scarves moved. He picked up the hoodie with them and started examining him. Emilia desperately tried to think of a reason for those things to move. She eventually settled on the idea that he was a crippled weapon, probably a flog or whip of some sort who got stuck partially transformed. It would explain his scarf-thingies and also the fact that he was clearly homeless. After roughly five minutes he wrapped the hoodie around his shoulders like it was a blanket. Okay, not the way it's supposed to be worn, but I suppose that works. Emilia thought. She slowly stood up, and he seemed to stare at her through those scarves. She walked up to the door and opened it.

“Please, come inside. It's freezing out here. At least come in for tonight. I'll give you food and water, if you let me,” she said. 

He inched forwards, and eventually followed her inside. She tried to gesture for him to go ahead of her, but he refused. She started closing the door, and only then did it seem to register that he had to move out of the way. He kept his head turned towards her the whole time, though. She started going up the stairs, and he followed. He seemed quite paranoid, refusing to turn his back on her even for her to just close that front door.  
She reached the top of the flight of stairs and broke off to the left, going down a hallway. The carpet was a dark, dirty blue, and the walls were a neutral gray. The doors were all black with silver doorknobs and knockers shaped like Lord Death’s mask. Not exactly welcoming, but it wasn't hostile, either. They passed six doors before they got to hers. She patted her pants pockets and realized that she didn't have her keys. She looked at Asura, who tensed.

“Don’t worry, I just need my keys. I think they're in the pocket on that. You mind giving them to me?” She asked.

He used his scarves to slowly take the keys from the pocket, and instead of giving them to her, he examined them from every possible angle. It took thirty seconds for him to be satisfied that they weren't some sort of weapon of mass destruction. Emilia held out her hand for the keys, but he simply dropped them on the floor in front of her. She frowned, and bent to pick them up. She figured his aim must be off, since he seemed to be blind. She stood back up, and selected the correct key out of the two she had. She put it in the lock, opening the door. She stepped in, and took off her shoes. She turned around to see the man still standing in the doorway. She beckoned him in, and he warily crossed the threshold. 

“Can you shut the door, please?” She asked.

The man complied, pulling the door shut behind him. Emilia smiled and went to her room to get some blankets and pillows for her guest. Her house was modest, with the living room and kitchen separated by only a half-wall. Right past the kitchen and living room was a hallway leading to the bathroom and two small bedrooms. The first was her own, with a bed, a desk, and a small bookshelf she kept any knickknacks she gathered. Right now, it was limited to a small jar of shiny pebbles, a few bird feathers, a small bird skull, and a paper crane she’d found on one of the tables at work. The other room was used for storage, in a sense. Or it would be, if she had anything other than a couple blankets to store.  
Once she had the blankets, she walked back out into the living room and dropped them on the couch. She looked towards the strange man, who hadn't moved from his precious spot just inside the door. 

“Okay, you can sleep here tonight. The blanket is gonna smell a little weird, but that's just because it hasn't been used for a while. In the morning, I'll make you breakfast. Sound good?” He didn't reply. “...okay, well uh...goodnight, I guess.”

Emilia walked awkwardly back to her room. She changed into her pajamas, quickly brushed her teeth in the bathroom, then got into bed. She couldn't help but think that this guy was quite odd. Hopefully he wouldn't cause her too much trouble.

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Emilia woke up to sunlight streaming through her thin blue curtains. Honestly, it was a nice way to wake up on weekends. No need to worry about getting up earlier than she wanted. She slowly sat up, stretching her arms above her head. She shifted so her legs were hanging off the side of the bed and inched her feet into her slippers. She shuffled out of her room, heading straight for the kitchen. She opened the fridge and took out a package of eggs. Taking four out, she set them aside and put the carton back in its proper place. She went into a cupboard and took out her frying pan, setting it on the stove. Turning to another cupboard, she shuffled around before she found the cooking spray. After spraying the pan, she put the can back and turned the stove on. While waiting for it to heat to a sufficient level, she got out a spatula from a drawer and a couple plates from a third cupboard. She skilfully cracked the eggs into the now hot pan and proceeded to scramble them. After she finished, she split them evenly between the two plates. She then put two pieces of bread in the toaster. They popped up after one and a half minutes, and she buttered them evenly, putting one on each plate. She retrieved forks from one of the drawers, and put both plates on the table.

“Hey, breakfast is ready!” She called out. 

She soon realised that this was a bad idea, however, as she heard what sounded like a chair being knocked over. She winced, and the strange man peered around the corner, his mouth set in a frustrated line. 

“Sorry…” Emilia said. She pointed to his plate. “I, uh, made you some food.”

He gingerly took the plate and poked at the food with his finger, looking confused. Emilia sighed and to show him that it was NOT poisoned, took a bite from his plate.

“See? It's fine. Now eat, you're starved.” She said.

He simply put down the plate and looked at her. “You truly have no clue who I am, do you?” He said.

Emilia was surprised when he spoke. Not only because he hadn't said a word previously, but because his voice sounded perfectly healthy. It was medium-deep and very smooth, with no trace of any weakness. He should sound very weak, with the state his body was in. But she needed to focus on what he said. How was she supposed to know him?

“No….should I?” She replied warily. 

The scarves around his head cracked open, revealing the rest of his face. He had black hair, with a white eye-like pattern on the ends. He had red eyes, with another white eye-like spot around each pupil. He also had a third eye in the middle of his forehead. Emilia put all this together after a few moments, and before she could make sound, she was tied and gagged with his scarves, which felt like they were made of skin.  
She was with the Kishin Asura.

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A/N: Hey, guys! I tried writing this a few years ago, but I was forced to delete it by my parents once they found out I had been using study hall to do it…  
Well, I'm back under a new pen name and as a high school graduate, so I have all the time in the world! Please enjoy, as I feel my writing style has improved over the years. :)


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